Complicated Simplicity
by Rosery Cricket
Summary: Have you ever had a problem coming up with a title for a story? Well, Maka Albarn sure did. Two hours after finishing her first story, and she was STILL having trouble. So, she got an idea: why not call one of her friends? *Takes place before the events of the anime.*


"'Something special about you'? No that sounds cliché," I contemplated, staring intensely at the glowing screen in front of me, legs swings back and forth. Straightening myself out from my crouched position and folding my arms, I rested my back on the wheely chair I sat on.

I had finished typing out my very first story two hours ago. In my opinion, it kicked ass, but, for whatever reason, I was having trouble coming up with a title. Trying to think of one was like trying to get Black Star to shut up; impossible.

Maybe stretching out my limbs will give me some ideas. I had read once that blood-flow is important for a devolping mind. Looking at the clock, I was startled by how much time had past. 1:20 already?! Apperently, I had typed straight through lunch! At that moment, I heard my stomach give a small growl.

Saving my file, I walked out of my room and into the apartment. Strange, I could've sworn Soul was here a minute ago. I looked for a note, but found none. Dammit, Soul! And you yell at me for not leaving notes when _I'm_ going somewhere. Knowing him, Soul was off doing something with Black Star, like trying to get Kid to fight with them, again. Well, if Soul came in with more scars or something, it would be that idiot's own fault.

Walking over to the fridge, I dug out some leftover spaghetti with sauce from last night that I had put in a bowl. Stuck on the serain wrap that was covering the top of it, was a light green Post-It note. On it was Soul's familar, scrawled handwriting. How'd he know I'd want some for today? Taking off the plastic and sticking the bowl in the mircowave, I read the note.

_Gone to Deathbuck's. Be back whenever. _

_-Soul_

Sighing, I felt a little bad for being annoyed earlier. I threw the plastic and note in the trash can next to the front door. Shortly after, the mircowave dinged. Taking a fork, I grabbed the bowl, then went back to my room and sat in front of the computer, staring at the screen again while I ate.

_'10 things'?_ I contemplated, twirling my fork in the pasta. _No, that sounds too much like another story I've heard about._

"Think, Maka! You can do better than this!" I whispered to myself. If Soul saw me now, he'd probably call me crazy.

The seconds ticked away as I contiued to eat my hastily made lunch. '_Nothing lost'? Sounds better as a horror movie title or something, not for a love story._

"Uuuuggghhh!" I exclaimed. How was it that something that sounded so simple could be so complicated?! I stabbed my fork into my bowl in frustration, only to here a clinking sound as metal hit porcelin. A bit startled, I was surprised at how focused I had been that I hadn't noticed my dwindling supply of spaghetti.

Putting the empty bowl next to the computer, I got up to stretch. Sitting for two hours stright isn't really good for oneself. Why was this so hard? I mean, Tsubaki came up with great titles for her essays whenever they were assigned.

I almost smacked myself on my head. Tsubaki! If she was so good maybe she could think of something. I needed someone to proofread my story anyway.

Saving my document, I clicked the print button, then walked into the living room to call her. After punching in the numbers, I waited nervously for her to pick up.

One ring. Two. Thr—

"Hello?" said a voice. It was quiet and sweet. The nervousness I felt before melted away just as fast as it had arrived.

"Hey Tsubaki, it's Maka," I replied.

"Hey Maka. Is something wrong?" asked Tsubaki. I could hear concern in her voice.

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad," I said, "I just finished writing a story and I can't think of a title for the life of me. I figured that since you were great at thinking up this kind of stuff, you could help."

"Thank you, and I'll be happy to help," said Tsubaki. I could practically hear her smile over the phone. I smiled myself.

"Why don't you come over to my place?" I offered, "I need someone to proof read."

"I'll be over in a few minutes," she replied, "Do want me to bring something over?" she added.

"No I think we've got enough stuff over here to make a snack, if we so chose," I said.

"See you in a bit, then," she said.

"See you," I replied, then hung up.

Walking into my room, I grabbed the pages from the printer and a red pen, then walked back to the living room. It finally hit me as to how much of a mess it was. It took me a second to remember that Liz and Patty had stayed over for the night, because Lord Death had a business party, or something like that. They didn't want to get in the way so they came over here. It soon turned into an almost out-of-control slumber party. Hurriedly picking up and puting stuff away, I tried to make it be, at least, a little presentable. As I placed the last pillow on the couch, I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Doors unlocked," I replied, retreving the papers and pen that I had put on the coffee table and sat on the couch. I heard the door shut, the shuffle of Tsubaki taking off her shoes, then the muted footprints of her approch. Looking up from the front page of my story, I noticed that Tsubaki was wearing a marroon, turtle-neck sweater and blue jeans, and in one hand was a very small canvas bag.

Typical Tsubaki. I smiled and said, "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I don't think you'll object once you've seen what I brought," she replied, sitting next to me while reaching into the bag. She held up a box of candy called _Sweettooth Heaven_.

"Your right, I don't object," I replied, chuckling. My mouthing watered at the prospect of the sweet, sugary treats.

"I knew these were your favorite, so I bought a pack before coming over," she said, while she opened up the box.

She laid them down on the table and opened the box. Shortly after, I grabbed one. She sat down and, noticing that she hadn't made a move for one, I said, "You can have one, Tsubaki. There's enough for both of us."

"I got them for you, though," she replied.

"Doesn't mean you can't have one," I pointed out, munching on a crunchy chocolate-covered pretzel. "You did buy them, after all."

She seemed to contemplate this for a moment, before reaching out for one and saying, "They do look delectiable."

After a minte or so of eating the tasty treats, Tsubaki said, "Now, about your story...", reminding me of why she was here in the first place.

Feeling a little dumb, I handed both it and the pen over. It had been on my lap this whole time and I had forgotten all about it. Stupid sweets.

Clicking the pen, she read the story, making a few marks here and there. I felt happy that I had a someone who was taking this seriously. I had Soul read some of it while it was still a work in progress. I learned never to do that again. He just laughed and said that I was such a girly-girl, and that love stories were uncool. In reply, I hit him with a Maka Chop, and mentally noted not to let Soul read any more of my stories.

After ten minutes or so, Tsubaki had finished proof-reading my story and straightened out the papers. Handing them back to me she said it was a nice read. "Sure, it needs some touching up, but nothing is perfect from the get-go," she added.

"Thanks," I replied, genuinely grateful.

"So, what titles have you come up with so far?" she asked, a hand returning to the box of candy.

Leaning back on the couch, I rattled off some titles I had come up with. After I had finished, she replaced the cover back on the box and I put the papers and the pen next to it on the coffe table.

"'When it happens' sounded like a promising title," she said, folding her legs and having her back rest on the back of the couch.

"I think I remembered a book I read once by that title," I said, crossing my legs and smoothing out the red skirt with black-stripes that I wore.

"It's not like this story is going out to the market," she pointed out.

Fiddling around with the green and white-striped tie around my neck, I muttered back, "It still feels wrong."

"Well, maybe you need to focus on what the story is about instead," she recommended.

"In that case, how about 'Funny and Complex'?" I offered. "Love can be funny."

"Hmm..." she seemed to contemplate. A moment later and she said, "It doesn't sound catchy enough to draw attention."

"You're probably right," I said, disappointment begining to seep into me.

There was short pause, then Tsubaki suddenly sat up straight and clapped her hands together in excitement. Her eyes shining with anticipation, she said, "How about 'Simply Complex'? Love can be seen as simple, yet no-one completely understands the what and the why behind it!"

Not even a moment pased before a smile crossed my face and I joined in with her enthusiasm. Sitting up, I exclaimed, "Tsubaki, you're a genuis! That's perfect!"

While she was busy being modest, I grabbed the red pen and wrote her suggestion on the first page in large letters. For the first time in hours, my story finally felt complete. Hugging her, I said, "Thank you so much! You've been a great help!"

Giggling, she replied with, "You're welcome, Maka."

"How about we finish off the box of sweets in celebration?" she offered. I answered by grabbing the box of assorted candy and took the lid off.

"You first," I said, holding the box out to her. It seemed only fair since she had thought up the beautiful title.

We finished off the sweets not too long after when Tsubaki stood up. Saying goodbye to eachother, she left, shutting the door behind her. With the rest of the couch empty, I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes. For whatever reason, I usually feel sleepy after eating a lot of sugar. While drifting off to sleep, my mind conjures up the image two people, walking along a beach I chuckled at the thought. I blame the sugar.

**A/N: Hello, everyone who decided to read this far. I decided to post THIS fic as my first story so readers would be able to get a feel of my writing style. It's also A LOT softer than many of the things I have in mind, so consider this a pre-warning, as well.**

**Thanks for reading and hope to see you again, next time!**


End file.
